


Dear, Dean.

by 2broschillin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel in the Empty (Supernatural), Dead Dean Winchester, Destiel- freeform, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Pining, Pining Castiel (Supernatural), The Empty (Supernatural), letter pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:40:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2broschillin/pseuds/2broschillin
Summary: Cas's mental letters to Dean from the empty, and then from heaven, can he find dean and make things right?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Week 1.  
According to my mental state and fatigue, I’d say I’ve been falling for quite some time now. I’ll call it a week or so. I don’t know if you can hear me. Obviously not literally. I just needed a way to say some things. This might never reach you but I hope Jack could find a way to get it to you. I just need to get these off my chest, even as I’m falling for an infinite timeline. I hope where ever you are, you’ve found your happiness, I hope you’ve ignored everything I said before leaving and are settled down somewhere and taking a break from saving the world. I’ve passed by a few people by now. You have some time and then they speed up or you slow down. It’s like that old film you made jack and I watch, Spy Kids? Where they are falling infinitely down the volcano. Falling and falling. The void gets boring after some time. I’m holding out hope that Jack may, as you would say “save my ass.” I wish it were simpler, I really do. I wish you never heard any of that. But unless wishes come true without demons, that’s not happening.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> week 2 in superhell. Cas is long-suffering. Apply the deep Cas voice™ if needed

Week 2.  
What I said was true. I think. You can ignore all of it. If I ever get back to you and Jack and Sam, we can pretend it never happened. I’ll go back to what I did for years and quietly pretend I don’t love you. I’d go to your wedding. And watch you stand at the end of the aisle. Wishing it were me. You don’t love me back. I accept that, it's okay. I just need to see you again. I can’t turn back time, well, I can, but not here. Not now. If I could Id keep you from hearing all of that. And you could keep me. You could go into domestic bliss with Lisa 2.0. I never got to tell you I finally decided on a full human name. Castiel Winchester. It has a nice ring to it, eh? If I couldn’t have it from being with you, I can claim it for myself. It’s not like you’d notice. No escape plans yet, Dean.


	3. Week 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this ones a real nail-biter. get it? because dean got- nevermind.

It feels ironic. At forty years down here, will you save me? Will you show up in a broken barn and raise me from perdition? Or will you forget? Pretend the apocalypse is long gone, that I never said those things. I would laugh but my lungs hurt from screaming. And I’d cry but the wind would burn. So I’ll close my eyes tight and dream of the first time you saw me. I fell off the roof. I hoped desperately you’d assume it was some suave entrance. I fell for you from minute one. Something feels off like you’ve been hurt. I don’t know, I feel it in my heart. Are you okay?


	4. One month, and still falling.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> its been four whole weeks bud. cas continues unaware of dean's death. he's mad at god and the whole world.

I don’t actually know how long it's been. Long enough for me to re-imagine our history in a different world. We really have a habit of switching places. I never told you about what happened pre-hell. God told me there was an earthman by the name of Dean Winchester in peril. He showed me your soul. It shined so brightly, I wanted to grab it and hold on tight. I’d keep it safe in a lockbox away from Michael and Lucifer, keep it for myself. I hoped to make my mark. And when I made the trip downstairs I knew it was worth it. He told me it was destiny to be saved. It was unclear whether he meant yours or mine. And when I grabbed your arm, I held on with all my strength. I pulled. And pulled. My arm never left your side. I waited for you. I sat for weeks at the pine box you were buried in. Waiting for your arm to burst out. I could see what you really looked like. Green eyes that held the forest. I waited and waited. I hoped the handprint would be obvious. Like the angel version of a pick-up line. And when you jumped out on that day, I tried to call out to you. Apparently too loudly. I didn’t know what my vessel should wear. I thought an overcoat would be nice, there are too many suits in heaven. Too boring, they always obeyed, it was “yes, god” “absolutely, god” “Of course, god” I never cared for that. Dad was a son of a non-existent bitch.


End file.
